~The Dragon Flies' Lair~Thread~XXII

August 28, 2005 | bentfeather/The Poets of the Lair

[La Enchiladita]

Hope and glory
eternal sunrise
God's promise

[Soaring Feather]

Hello LE!!


Nice haiku.

[La Enchiladita]

Father of us all,

Make us like the person in our mirror,
to belittle no one for it hurts us all.
Give us strength to admit our error,
and keep us humble until your call.

Protect those loved and those unknown,
from our human nature and weak, weak ways.
Lift us all to a far better way and tone,
so we may sing in your chorus on that day.

Help me to finally learn to find the way,
and the gift to share with souls as lost as me.
Help me find rest from toil as here I lay,
to wake to your dawn and at last to see.

Amen


*AMEN*

WayzataJOHNN:

A beautiful poem and prayer
A psalm of timeless yearnings
Spoken by broken hearts
Who feel the brush of angel wings...

[La Enchiladita]

Good morning, ms. feather!

It's nice to be here.

[Soaring Feather]

[Soaring Feather]

Good morning everyone.

[Jet Jaguar]

Good morning!

[Soaring Feather]

So beautiful, JJ-thank you.

[Countyline]

The following is a poem written by Judge Roy Moore from Alabama. Judge Moore was sued by the ACLU for displaying the Ten Commandments in his courtroom foyer. He has been stripped of his judgeship and now they are
trying to strip his right to practice law in Alabama. The judge's poem sums it up quite well.
> > >
> > >
America the Beautiful,
or so you used to be.
Land of the Pilgrims' pride;
I'm glad they'll never see.
> > >
Babies piled in dumpsters,
Abortion on demand,
Oh, sweet land of liberty;
your house is on the sand.
> > >
Our children wander aimlessly
poisoned by cocaine,
Choosing to indulge their lusts,
when God has said abstain.
> > >
From sea to shining sea,
our Nation turns away
From the teaching of God's love
and a need to always pray.
> > >
We've kept God in our temples,
how callous we have grown.
When earth is but His footstool,
and Heaven is His throne.
> > >
We've voted in a government
that's rotting at the core,
Appointing Godless Judges
who throw reason out the door,
> > >
Too soft to place a killer
in a well deserved tomb,
But brave enough to kill a baby
before he leaves the womb.
> > >
You think that God's not angry,
that our land's a moral slum?
How much longer will He wait
before His judgment comes?
> > >
How are we to face our God,
from Whom we cannot hide?
What then is left for us to do,
but stem this evil tide?
> > >
If we who are His children,
will humbly turn and pray;
Seek His holy face
and mend our evil way:
> > >
Then God will hear from Heaven
and forgive us of our sins,
He'll heal our sickly land
and those who live within.
> > >
But, America the Beautiful,
if you don't - then you will see,
A sad but Holy God
withdraw His hand from Thee.
~Judge Roy Moore~

All too true.

[Soaring Feather]

Hello, Countyline!!

So glad you checked in. You got through the storms okay then? We have several of you Texans in the Lair, I have heard from all of you, Thank the Lord you are safe.


Thanks so much for posting this poem. It speaks to the very crux of the matter.


Take care and again so good to see you.

[Countyline]

Life goes on as usual
there's beauty every day
pray for eyes to see it
all along the way.

... with blessings
we are surrounded
from our Father up above
tis not that we deserve it
it is His gift of Love

We dream of far off places
...shores we'll never see,
when all around we are immersed
as in an ocean of immortality

if ... we are His ...
by virtue of His call
... did we answer
yea to glory or nay to fall?

turn to Him in joy
He wrote a letter of love
O dwell in its words ...
to His beloved ...

savor the sweet aroma
may it linger on your lips ...
may you shine from inside
a very lovely light ...

[Soaring Feather]

Oh, so beautiful!

[HopeandGlory]

That's me! . . . I'm just a little ray of sunshine . . . ;-)

[Soaring Feather]

Danny Boy

"And if you come, when all the flowers are dying
And I am dead, as dead I well may be
You'll come and find the place where I am lying
And kneel and say an "Ave" there for me.

And I shall hear, tho' soft you tread above me
And all my dreams will warm and sweeter be
If you'll not fail to tell me that you love me
I'll simply sleep in peace until you come to me.

I'll simply sleep in peace until you come to me."

Best regards,
AR
USAF, former.

Lyrics posted by Alarm Rider in the Canteen.
Thank you, sir for your service.

[Soaring Feather]

Country Roads

Country Roads

There’s nothing like a walk in the Fall,
down country roads, her shoulders bearing
old Goldenrod tall, or stopping at Elder Berry bushes
covered in blue, laden with bunches of berries full,
or having four tow headed kids in line to laugh
and run, play around in the warm sun.

Or watching the cows getting their fill of fallen apples
up on the hill, or slipping over to the Elder Berries
and having a snack there, too.

Or grabbing a handful of berries to chew, then show
your purple lips and teeth when through. There’s
nothing like a walk on a country road,
To kick a few loose stones up the road, to dig in
the cat tail pond now dry, and to smell the crisp
cool air and see the clear blue sky.

The sugar maples now changing color,
the brilliant reds, the rusty browns,
the golden oaks, the dirty browns.
Quaking Aspens now golden yellows while
Larch trees dropping their needles in Fall.
No, there is nothing like a walk on country roads.

The last Chicory blooming in blue,
LOOK OUT kids, for Burdock is getting
ready to spill, those ratty catchers over your clothes
then combing them out of kids hair, the cat
coming home carrying a load of Burdock burrs in her fur.

There’s nothing like talking a walk in the Fall,
a warm sun on the back of my neck,
the kids sunny smiles, impish laughter they utter,
to stop by their frog pond and reminisce about gobs
of polliwogs and little red newts, no, there is nothing
like a walk in the Fall.

bentfeather
September 27. 2005

[HopeandGlory]

Good evening Miss Feather . . . there is so much in this poem to reflect on; it's stunning . . .and the graphic as usual is exquisite.

[Spotsy]

LOL! I see you ladies are causing trouble again. ;)

What is this 8/30/05 business? I nearly fell off of my chair thinking that I have the date wrong. Isn't today the 27th???

Song of the Pancake Chef

I'm the pancake chef,
And I do, when I can,
Eat pancakes by the score;
I bake them brown,
And the Troops swallow them down,
And loudly call for more.

I'll lay my stakes
That a million cakes
the Troops eat between two naps;
Then call for more,
A million and four,
Or a million and five, perhaps.

It makes us fat,
And more than that,
we're jolly through and through;
We've been known to laugh
For a year and a half,
Or why not call it two

Oh, they long for a cake
As big as I make,
Say, fifty townships wide;
They would handle it quite
At a single bite
And stow it away inside.

modified work of John Edward Everett

[Spotsy]

Disregard above reference to August date -- Spotsy was on the wrong page in more than one way!

(rebotting brain)

[HopeandGlory]

Here comes Spotsy with her array
of pancakes stacked up high,
with rich butter spread on thick,
sticky syrup oozes over all.
Yes, that will do he trick.

Waffles also she does display,
Miss Spotsy's delights are a dream,
strawberries; jewel like raspberries too,
along with fresh whipped cream.
Oh boy! it must be Wednesday.

rim 9/27/05

[HopeandGlory]

Brilliant . . . Brilliant . . .LOL!!! . . .very good Miss Spotsy . . . you made good on your promise to write us a poem. I'm impressed!!!